arrived in the turret room he saw James and the Master wrestling. The Master was almost on his knees, with his head under the king’s arm, yet managing to hold his hand over the king’s mouth to stop him shouting. When James saw Ramsay he called, ‘Strike him low! Strike him low! He is wearing a secret mail doublet.’ Ramsay instead slashed at the Master’s neck and face. Then he and James pushed him down the little spiral staircase.
It is evident that if James had wanted to apprehend the Master he could easily have done so. Erskine found the badly wounded Master on the stairs, shouted, ‘This is the traitor,’ and killed him. Gowrie came running up behind. He stepped over his brother’s body and entered the gallery chamber. There he met Ramsay and the three other men who had killed his brother. The king was hiding in the turret room. Gowrie looked about him and asked where the king was. Ramsay said he had been killed. At this stunning news – whether he thought it was good or bad scarcely matters – Gowrie lowered his guard and the assassins promptly killed him.
Within minutes everyone was in the gallery chamber. The king knelt by Gowrie’s body and thanked God for his deliverance. Outside, the citizens of Perth were gathering, summoned by the tolling town bell. They were devoted admirers of Gowrie, and James and the other assassins could have been in serious difficulties if it had not been for the presence, by chance, in Perth of three hundred armed king’s men. If they had not been there, James VI of Scotland might not have lived long enough to become James I of England. But James was remorseless. He sent after the Ruthvens’ two young brothers, but their mother had the sense to take them quickly across the border. One died in exile. The other was arrested when James became king of England and imprisoned in the Tower, without trial, for twenty years.
The motive was fairly clear. By murdering the Ruthvens and virtually annihilating their family, James wiped out his debt to them. He was also able to confiscate their huge estates, so he turned a worrying and politically embarrassing debt into a large profit, some of which he used to advance his fellow assassins.
The uncertainties surrounding the incident were almost entirely of James’s own making. The opening chapter about the stranger and the crock of gold was pure fabrication. James concocted a complete version of the murders, which was slanted so that he emerged as the victim, threatened and attacked by the maniacal Ruthven brothers who had devised a trap for him. His version was a lie, in that the trap was his own, and the Ruthven brothers were its victims. They were not the assassins; he was the assassin. Yet behind this simple true/false dichotomy lies something more complicated. The Ruthvens did pose a threat to James by holding his huge debt over him. They might have been safer if they had written off the debt; but that is said with the benefit of hindsight. Possibly the Ruthvens were plotting against James, and James anticipated their conspiracy.
William Cecil was involved in the discreet quest for a successor for Elizabeth I. In terms of bloodline and the pro-Catholic position that had been forced upon him, James was the obvious candidate. If Cecil had a freer hand and could follow his own preference for a Protestant candidate, Gowrie was his man. James was plotting with Essex; James’s idea was to move his army to the English border just as Essex was attempting to gain control in London by insurrection, and demand an acknowledgement regarding the succession. James assumed London would accede to this demand, not wanting to fend off a Scottish invasion while dealing with the Essex rebellion. At that moment, Cecil would have like nothing better than to see James disappear.
Scottish kings were kidnapped all the time. Since Gowrie would be the alternative candidate for the English throne, with everything at stake, Cecil might entrust him with the
It is evident that if James had wanted to apprehend the Master he could easily have done so. Erskine found the badly wounded Master on the stairs, shouted, ‘This is the traitor,’ and killed him. Gowrie came running up behind. He stepped over his brother’s body and entered the gallery chamber. There he met Ramsay and the three other men who had killed his brother. The king was hiding in the turret room. Gowrie looked about him and asked where the king was. Ramsay said he had been killed. At this stunning news – whether he thought it was good or bad scarcely matters – Gowrie lowered his guard and the assassins promptly killed him.
Within minutes everyone was in the gallery chamber. The king knelt by Gowrie’s body and thanked God for his deliverance. Outside, the citizens of Perth were gathering, summoned by the tolling town bell. They were devoted admirers of Gowrie, and James and the other assassins could have been in serious difficulties if it had not been for the presence, by chance, in Perth of three hundred armed king’s men. If they had not been there, James VI of Scotland might not have lived long enough to become James I of England. But James was remorseless. He sent after the Ruthvens’ two young brothers, but their mother had the sense to take them quickly across the border. One died in exile. The other was arrested when James became king of England and imprisoned in the Tower, without trial, for twenty years.
The motive was fairly clear. By murdering the Ruthvens and virtually annihilating their family, James wiped out his debt to them. He was also able to confiscate their huge estates, so he turned a worrying and politically embarrassing debt into a large profit, some of which he used to advance his fellow assassins.
The uncertainties surrounding the incident were almost entirely of James’s own making. The opening chapter about the stranger and the crock of gold was pure fabrication. James concocted a complete version of the murders, which was slanted so that he emerged as the victim, threatened and attacked by the maniacal Ruthven brothers who had devised a trap for him. His version was a lie, in that the trap was his own, and the Ruthven brothers were its victims. They were not the assassins; he was the assassin. Yet behind this simple true/false dichotomy lies something more complicated. The Ruthvens did pose a threat to James by holding his huge debt over him. They might have been safer if they had written off the debt; but that is said with the benefit of hindsight. Possibly the Ruthvens were plotting against James, and James anticipated their conspiracy.
William Cecil was involved in the discreet quest for a successor for Elizabeth I. In terms of bloodline and the pro-Catholic position that had been forced upon him, James was the obvious candidate. If Cecil had a freer hand and could follow his own preference for a Protestant candidate, Gowrie was his man. James was plotting with Essex; James’s idea was to move his army to the English border just as Essex was attempting to gain control in London by insurrection, and demand an acknowledgement regarding the succession. James assumed London would accede to this demand, not wanting to fend off a Scottish invasion while dealing with the Essex rebellion. At that moment, Cecil would have like nothing better than to see James disappear.
Scottish kings were kidnapped all the time. Since Gowrie would be the alternative candidate for the English throne, with everything at stake, Cecil might entrust him with the
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